The Spear from Jorrvaskr
by Lord Kagrenac II
Summary: Dorne never saw much rain. It hardly happened, but once Prince Oberyn Martell marches with his cousin to clear a group of desert raiders, he is struck by lightning. In the aftermath and much to his shock, he opens his eyes to a completely different place. How will Skyrim react to someone like the Red Viper at the start of their Civil War? A new game of thrones will start.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Well hello there people. I have been utterly fascinated with both Game of Thrones (aka A Song of Ice and Fire) and the Elder Scrolls series (hint: my username) so I came up with this today. You may not believe me but I thought about it when I was out eating at a restaurant with my family. Funny, that. In any case, here there will be gore, swearing and sex (it is Oberyn so it is expected) I have no pairings decided and I won't think about them until later.**

* * *

The red desert was an unforgiving place for the unprepared and arrogant. Aegon the Conqueror had learned the hard way when he invaded. Not even his overpowering military might and dragons could break the resistance of the hardy Dorne people. The Targaryan king saw how his army was suffering from constant harassment from the guerrilla tactics the desert people pulled.

He was thusly forced to negotiate a deal as he retreated from the wretched desert that so many now feared and respected. It was a common saying that inhospitable terrains made hard, adaptable people.

One of these was the infamous Prince Oberyn Martell, or more infamously known as the Red Viper. He was almost unmatched in open combat with a deadly, fast paced attacking mind. The man was also cunning enough to poison his blades, especially his spear to make sure his rivals and enemies died no matter the circumstances.

Of course, he was also hot tempered and prone to angry outbursts. Many had witnessed them and were fearful because the man was an exceptional fighter, a member of a selected few, the elite in the whole of Westeros and the Free Cities even.

The people of Dorne adored him, while the rest in Westeros viewed him with contempt and fear. Only the heir Prince was friendly with him, and much of it was because of deep respect between the two. It also helped that Elia, Oberyn's sister was currently married to the man, Rhaegar.

Prince Oberyn was now after the trail of desert bandits, which had been harassing trading caravans and wagons for over two seasons. King Aerys had been furious and told the House Martell in no uncertain terms to take care of it or else he would send his own forces to deal with the problem.

House Martell knew that the forces of the king would not be able to catch anyone, and will most likely plunder the towns and cities which would hurt Dorne. And that was the best case scenario, as now the whole of Westeros shook in fear of possible rebellion.

"My prince, the trail leaves west." A dornish spearman said. "Towards the mountains."

Oberyn nodded. "Very well, we shall divide our force. Manfrey will take care of the rest."

With a dismissive hand, the prince let his cousin divide the units and go ahead with the encircling of the bandit group.

Manfrey Martell was as young as Oberyn was, and had a keen military mind which did not go unnoticed in the Dornish court, especially to Doran Martell. Although he was technically in charge of this battle group of spearmen, Oberyn was the overall commander.

Narrowing his eyes to the sky, the Red Viper saw how the clouds started acting strangely and the wind began blowing faster than before. He smiled as soon as he smelled the rain, such a beautiful and rare sight in a desert.

"Better hurry it up, dear cousin." Oberyn smirked as his relative scowled. "The rain may ruin your chances of kissing my elder brother's arse."

Manfrey Martell rolled his eyes. "You should try that instead, all he does is shake his head at your skirt chasing antics."

The Red Viper just grinned shamelessly. "He could not have it any other way."

Frowning all of a sudden, Manfrey looked to the horizon as the soldiers marched. "There are rumors of rebellion, cousin."

Nodding, the viper replied with a simple, "I am aware."

"Then you should also be aware that Lyanna Stark has vanished."

Oberyn just eyed him as he continued to marvel at the change in the weather. "So? That little wolf was always wild."

"Rhaegar did it."

Elia came to the mind of Oberyn and he sneered. "Bloody prince can't keep his cock tamed. It was not enough when he humiliated my sister at the tournament."

"Quite ironic and amusing… that coming from you." The cousin drawled with a wry grin.

The prince of Dorne rolled his eyes. "Oh shut up, I-"

His comment was stopped by the sound of thunder. Such a beautiful sound, the two Martell family members thought with a soft smile.

Rumors of an insurrection had been rampaging across Westeros. King Aerys was not helping by punishing people with an iron fist and letting cruelty flow around the kingdom at will. Dorne did not suffer, as they were one of the preferred houses of the Targaryan dynasty, mostly out of respect and the fact that they were loyal to the crown.

The Starks and Baratheons, two of the powerful houses in Westeros had not been amused at the King's reign of cruelty. There were rumors that a delegation from the Starks at the head of Rickard, the head of house, was on its way to Kings Landing to deal with Rhaegar taking Lyanna. Robert Baratheon was deeply infatuated with Lyanna and extremely loyal to the Stark family. Any idiocy from Aerys could cost the whole continent dearly.

House Martell was ready to stand by the Targaryan dynasty, however.

"Over there!" A scout shouted to his men. "They are moving archers!"

"Shields up." Oberyn ordered. "Advance!"

Manfrey began shouting orders as arrows began landing around them. Most landed not causing any harm, though a soldier was struck in the shoulder, already being shielded by another spearman. Loyalty and discipline were thought to the extreme to the dornish soldiers.

Rain began pouring down on them as bandits began charging to the closely packed formation of spearmen. Most were held at bay, but the ones that did pass through were then cut down by swords.

Oberyn grinned, his adrenaline pumped by the rain and thunder around him and charged with his spear, engaging in combat with four bandits.

"No quarter, no mercy!" Manfrey shouted as he held the line with his soldiers. "Unbowed, unbent, unbroken!"

The soldiers chanted the Martell house motto and began to advance, cutting down any bandits unlucky enough to not cover with their leather shields.

Within seconds, dozens of the brigand forces began to disengage and flee in terror as the spearmen advanced ruthlessly.

"Oberyn, enough of your shenanigans! Formation!" Manfrey yelled with annoyance in his voice.

The Red Viper cut down two bandits and another that attempted to flee. However, before he could finish off the last one he was paralyzed by a roaring sound.

He turned around and saw Manfrey's face contort into worry and horror. "Oberyn!"

Said prince only saw black and knew nothing after.

* * *

There were voices around him, that much was certain. Oberyn felt pain in all of his body, his muscles strained and somewhat sensitive.

He would never trust thunderstorms ever again, especially in a desert.

Groaning, he sat up and put his face on his hands. He then let a hand through his hair, sighing. Where was Manfrey? That fool was probably laughing at his current state that was for sure.

"You alright there, stranger?" A deep voice shook the Red Viper out of his thoughts.

Turning his eyes up, he saw a tall and powerfully built man. He had icy blue eyes and a broad grin on his face that wore war paint of some sort. Strange…

"You imperials are tough, I will give you that." The big man roared in laughter, his red curls flowing with his movements. "You looked about to die when we found you, a sad sight. Almost looked like a kicked dog."

Oberyn just looked at him. What was a man from the north doing in Dorne?

His eyes widening as the scenery befell on his eyes, he then asked himself what was snow doing in Dorne? A desert! Those windows showed snow and trees! That was against anything Dorne had.

The estate looked like it was made of wood, something rare in Dorne! His eyes turned to every direction, his breathing accelerating.

"It looks like he has seen a dragon!" Another man, smaller than the previous red head chuckled loudly. "Milk drinkers, I tell you. These imperials rely too much on their words and not on their minds or fists!"

"Keep it down brother, you will wake all of our brothers and sisters…. again."

The smaller man sneered at the taller man. "What about you? When you have mead, all you do is scream as if the Greybeards can hear you all the way in High Hrothgar, or maybe the whole of Skyrim!"

At least they spoke the common tongue, Oberyn thought. His mind was ablaze with worry. He kept trying to place the names they mentioned. High Hrothgar? Skyrim? What in seven hells were those? And who in the name of House Martell were these Greybeards?

Oberyn Martell had traveled to many parts of the world, and he had never heard of those once in his entire life. Well, he was barely reaching twenty five, he thought with a grimace. Maybe he missed one of them? No, it could not be.

"Finally, the imperial shows emotion." One of the probable twins said, his eyes narrowing. "What is your name, stranger?"

The prince stood up, his teeth chattering as the pain shot through his body. "I am Oberyn Martell, of Dorne."

The smaller twin tilted his head to the side. "Never heard of that place… what about you, Farkas?"

"No." The giant shook his head. "Nothing comes to mind."

"Why are you dressed like that?" A woman asked as she approached the bed in which the twins had placed the fallen prince of Dorne.

Not even in a deep worry would Oberyn let pass an opportunity to let his eyes roam over a good figure, and this woman had it. Muscles all over and fiery red hair, along with a pretty face that was hidden by war paint. He had an idea that she was feisty, which added positively to her strange and strong beauty.

"Eyes up here." She snapped. "I am not some common whore you can ogle."

Oberyn let a smirk cross his face. "One can't help it, red head."

The woman rolled her eyes and left. "Disgusting pig." She shot at Oberyn before slamming the door behind her.

After finishing their bouts of laughter at the incident, the twins introduced themselves.

"I am Farkas." The giant said with a grin.

His twin brother nodded. "And I am Vilkas, the smarter of the two I can tell you."

Farkas shot him a glare. "Smarter but I can beat you in the field."

Bickering, the brothers left the Dorne prince as his mind once again ran through all the things he was learning.

This room did not look like anything he had seen. It was somewhat close to the farms and cabins in the north, but extremely different too. The lights looked like orbs floating! What kind of madness was that? Was he in hell? No, he would be having fun in hell for sure.

There was also a certain coldness around that shouted at him that he was not on Dorne anymore, quite obviously.

"If I may…." Oberyn interrupted the twins and asked in a serious voice. "What is this place?"

Vilkas looked at him with a blank expression. "You must have hit your head quite bad, lad."

"You are currently in the city of Whiterun…" Farkas said slowly. "And this is Jorrvaskr, the headquarters of the Companions."

At the blank face of Oberyn, Vilkas frowned. "Seriously? You don't know where you are at the moment?"

"I…" Oberyn stuttered. "I must have hit my head hard."

Farkas nodded in agreement. "Quite lad. This is Skyrim, one seriously can't miss or do not remember it."

The other man in the room, Vilkas narrowed his eyes. "What kind of clothing is this? Never seen anything like it."

Oberyn put a hand on his head. "I am getting some pain."

"I will bring you some potions." Vilkas nodded at Farkas. "You make sure that his lunch is ready. He will likely be out for some time."

And that did happen. Although Oberyn was faking a headache, he did hit the pillow and was out of it before any further ado.

* * *

The Companions were talking quietly when they saw the formidable twins emerging from the stairs. They had blank faces and did not change even when the whole table stared at them, questions reigning all over their faces.

"Who is he?" Skjor finally broke the silence, his face showing intrigue and curiosity.

Vilkas shrugged. "He said his name is Oberyn Martell…. but I do not know where he comes from."

Nodding along his brother's speech, Farkas commented. "He did say he was from some place called Dorne, though I have never heard of it."

"And he is a disgusting pig as well." Aela the Huntress scowled. Skjor chuckled quietly and the twins shared grins.

Torvar slurred. "Those clothes, they are not from around here."

One of the twins raised an eyebrow. Vilkas was impressed that even if drunk in the dawn of morning, Torvar had the ability to still think carefully.

"Or Cyrodiil, for that matter." Athis sneered. "Maybe High Rock or somewhere with those blasted Redguards."

Nodding, Skjor rubbed his face. "Probably from Hammerfell, though I seriously doubt of an imperial surviving there after they kicked out the Thalmor and Empire."

Vilkas rolled his eyes as his brothers and sisters continued to gossip. Truly, these days it was hard to find work as the Companions had earned a shaky reputation through the years after the Great War. Business went down, even if Jarl Balgruuf sponsored their services whenever he could.

Now there were rumors that there would be a civil war. One that would engulf the entire nord nation into a bloody conflict with the Legions of the Empire.

Ulfric Stormcloak was planning something, it seemed. Many nords lurked in the streets, talking in hush whispers. Bandit and forsworn attacks were at an all-time high and Legion soldiers were amassing in the border. Solitude had also closed its gates for a day out of fear of an attack on the capital by rebels.

Thalmor movements were now very common. They had a horrific distaste for Talos worshippers and six nords had been killed a month ago. However, these so called rebels that the Empire was afraid of retaliated by attacking two thalmor caravans, slaughtering twenty of them. The head of the delegation was tortured and molten silver poured through his elf ears.

That was mere weeks ago, and Vilkas was becoming nervous.

It did seem that within days or months there would be a war. They had three brothers that went to fight the elven onslaught in Cyrodiil, never to return. He did feel bitter towards the empire for abandoning the nord cause, but he did understand how Skyrim was virtually untouched as the Legions fought their war in their heart province.

Thanks to the Legions fighting the elves to a standstill in the Imperial City, Skyrim did not suffer much from the war.

And he was also smart enough to realize that Skyrim, if it ever gained independence from the Empire, would not stand a chance against the Thalmor in open war. Not with jarls fighting each other and the Forsworn attacking from within.

"Kodlak wants to speak with you, Vilkas." Skjor said with a blank face. "I am sure it is about our new… guest."

Vilkas nodded and turned to leave, but he had to leave a sarcastic comment before doing so. "Maybe he heard you all gossiping like housewives about him."

The twin smirked as the others gasped or threw back shouts in outrage, though Farkas just laughed and Skjor smirked.

Once he approached the door, Vilkas knocked respectfully.

"Come in." He heard the deep voice of their headmaster in all but name.

Stepping in, Vilkas bowed his head in deep respect. "Sir, you wanted to see me?"

The old nord shook his head with an amused smile. "And how many times have I told you that I am not your sir, merely Kodlak? Gods above, I can even settle for old man."

Vilkas grimaced at the last comment but kept quiet about it.

"This new guest… have you learned anything?"

"His name." The smaller twin said respectfully. "Oberyn Martell. He wears weird clothing but other than that, I do not know where he is from."

"Yes…" Kodlak nodded. "It did seem that he hit his head quite hard when you informed me of his appearance in the farm fields."

Farkas had been bragging about a fearsome bear he had spotted and killed outside the city. Vilkas being a natural rival to his twin did not believe it and set out to search for the remains of the animal.

As they had walked through a storm, they had heard lightning striking quite violently and a thud of something hitting the ground hard.

To their astonishment and disbelief, Oberyn was laying on the ground. The man was unconscious but still breathing. Aela immediately ordered Farkas to take the man inside their headquarters to treat him as they had noticed slight burns on his arms and face.

"It is extremely light armor from what I could notice." Vilkas kept the conversation going. "It looked like leather but also adorned with yellow orbs and spears."

"Strange." Kodlak replied with a frown. "It does look like our newest friend comes from a far, far away place."

"We think he may come from Hammerfell."

The old nord touched his chin thoughtfully. "It would add thanks to his skin tone and strange symbols, though he looks more like an imperial than anything else."

"His accent is very strange as well, nothing I have heard before, not even the redguards themselves."

Kodlak just looked at Vilkas, his eyes twinkling strangely. "We shall find out more later, keep him safe and answer any questions. I shall honestly say he will be hungry for knowledge, regarding his head injury."

That was an understatement.

* * *

Oberyn looked around the table to all the members of the Companions. He had a blank face though he was faintly amused at the glare Aela was giving him or the slurring from Torvar, ranting about some mead.

"Please, let us welcome Oberyn to the table of the Companions. He is our guest and should be treated as such." Vilkas declared, glaring at Aela who backed down though her eyes still narrowed into slits at Oberyn at every opportunity.

"So…" Skjor drawled. "I am sure you know of our names and organization?"

The Red Viper nodded. "Quite. Farkas and Vilkas were very informative." He answered politely, much to Skjor's surprise and amusement. Aela rolled her eyes.

Farkas coughed while Vilkas rolled his eyes. "Understatement."

Truly, the strange mad had asked numerous questions about their organization, current city and the province in general. After an hour Oberyn said he was hungry, walking away from the besumed twins.

"Do you have any skills in combat, stranger?" Athis asked, his head leaning in curiosity.

Oberyn still had to practice his reaction towards the strange humanoid creature in front of him. Blue skin, red eyes… he looked like something out of a horror story. Truly, Oberyn had to keep calm and not demonstrate fear or revulsion. He needed to learn more about this... place before finally coming to conclusions. He was hot-tempered, yes but not stupid in the slightest.

"Yes." The dornish man replied with a slight smirk. Now Farkas and Skjor were interested. "I am well acquainted with spear and sword fighting."

"Spear?" Aela sneered. "Now why would you want to fight with a spear?"

"So I could keep banshees like you at bay, they are several feet long after all." Came Oberyn's automatic response.

The table roared in laughter as Aela turned red and growled.

Oberyn turned to her, his eyes wide. That growl sounded quite like an animal and it raised the hairs on his arms.

"How about we spar, eh Martell?" Skjor smirked. "I want to see what you are made of."

The Red Viper nodded in respect. He was in a new, strange land. There were a few things he needed to learn and earn but if there was one thing he could win today from them was respect.

And that sent his blood on an overdrive. He was quite excited to see how these people fought. He expected them to be brutes like the Mountain, mowing down opposition through brute strength and force. However, looks could be deceiving. He was a perfect example of that. Oberyn was sure that Skjor and the rest did not expect much from him due to his pysique.

Of course, he had made an enemy without even trying.

That feisty woman called Aela kept glaring at him. "I hope he cuts you to pieces."

"Do not worry, it will remain quite long still." He winked at her.

Skjor laughed and the twins chuckled with mirth while Aela turned red in anger.

* * *

**I hope I did catch Oberyn's character spot on. From what I gathered in the books and series, he seems like a suave but hot tempered man with a ruthless side. He also is extremely lustful heh. In any case, please comment, rate or subscribe (thank you youtubers for that non trademarked phrase) You can suggest pairings and I will consider them. His bisexuality though, I do not know how I will handle it as I don't think of myself good to write slash though I may imply it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I personally am very happy to see people actually enjoying the idea of this story unfolding. I have been tweaking with Oberyn Martell and I have to say, it is fun to write about him. Personally, I would hate seeing him as a dragonborn, so to the ones who think he will become one I apologize in advance, he will certainly not be but he will meet him/her in the future. As for the spear, come on ladies and gentlemen, what is Oberyn without his own spear in this story? Hah, enjoy this.**

* * *

The whole of the Companions were outside, faces eager and hungry to see the spar between one of their most elite warriors, Skjor against the seemingly frail looking imperial stray found two days earlier.

Vilkas and Farkas were in doubts, though. Oberyn's eyes were cold and calculating most of the time, and those were of a seasoned warrior or soldier, perhaps even a politician. Perhaps in his past life before the injury he was a soldier? An officer of the Empire maybe? Or a mercenary?

Skjor, the tough and grizzled veteran of their organization took out his sword and shield. He grinned at Oberyn, who was eyeing up the spears they had, which were not many.

"Spear eh? You think you can beat me with it?" Skjor taunted. "Those are of good quality though, forged here with the best steel available."

The Red Viper just turned to look at him with a small smirk. "We shall see."

"Are you sure you don't want to change that armor?" The grizzled Companion said, raising an eyebrow. "It's the lightest we could find for you, but this is combat we are talking about."

The leather armor Oberyn was wearing was Imperial Light Armor bought from the Battle-Born clan months earlier by Athis, who disliked it and left it rotting in their storage room. The Red Viper took an immediate liking to it and was wearing it since the day before. He had to bathe and rid of his old armor which was burned and useless.

Farkas remembered his longing gaze as he left it on his room to change it for the one given to him.

"Skjor, I will teach you a lesson on armor." Oberyn smirked. "And you will not like it."

The older nord shrugged. "It's your funeral, pretty boy."

As soon as Oberyn arrived to the center space made by the encroaching Companions vying to see the fight, he winked at Aela. "This is for you, red head."

"Skjor!" She shouted. "Carve holes on him, I am in the mood for some goat cheese."

Companions around them laughed as Oberyn just smirked at the feisty red head. "I will visit your quarters soon enough, woman."

"Enough." Vilkas shouted amongst the laughter. "Are you two ready?"

Skjor nodded with a blank face. "Ready."

"I was born ready." Oberyn drawled. "Bring it on."

Farkas frowned and his eyes narrowed in deep concentration.

That pose, the one that Oberyn was showing…. it seemed familiar. The imperial looking man was holding the six feet long spear with his hands.

His feet and legs looked ready to pounce at a moment's time.

Where had he seen something similar? It was like a dance. He had seen it, but he was not sure where exactly.

Taking a glance to the side, he saw his twin brother also frowning and watching Oberyn with a calculating gaze. His brother was smarter, he must have remembered.

"Here I come!"

Skjor charged and swung his sword towards the spear, to cut it in half and make the imperial forfeit the match before drawing blood. He smirked. It was so easy.

To the shock of everyone, Oberyn did a backflip and rolled to the side. He then used his spear to pick shots at Skjor's shield. After, he moved at an alarming speed to the sides and rear of the slower Skjor. He was dancing and avoiding the swordsman's attacks effortlessly.

"Remember what you said about my armor?" Oberyn jumped to avoid another swing at his legs and used the back of the spear to smash the nord's head, drawing blood from his nose and lips. "There is no better weapon than speed!"

Furthering his argument, the Red Viper swung his spear towards the nord's legs. Within a second, the bigger man was on his back, his shield kicked away by Oberyn. Skjor's vision became dizzy as everyone around became silent.

The crowd gasped while the slurring Torval burped and laughed in amusement. "You got your ass handed to you, Skjor!"

Said man tried to reach his sword but a boot stepped on it and a spear appeared at his throat, its sharp point glistening under the sun's rays. The shield was more than six feet away, lessening his chances of escaping the inevitable.

"You forfeit?" Oberyn smirked and then proceeded to wink at Aela, who huffed and turned away.

Farkas whispered, "Vilkas, that technique is familiar to me."

"Aye." The other nord nodded. "It is almost like a hybrid… khajiit and dark elf, some imperial thrown in there."

Indeed, the brothers had fought against enemies that used their speed to avoid and attack. They were troublesome and highly dangerous, but they had never seen a fighter so quick and agile that humiliated Skjor so effortlessly. It was simply shocking.

To everyone's surprise, Skjor laughed. "You are one tough little man, Oberyn!" Putting a hand in the air, the fallen prince of Dorne took it and pulled the man up. "I need a drink."

Arthis chuckled. "And some healing too."

While the Companions mingled amongst themselves to talk about the battle, Oberyn simply eyed the spear and said to Farkas. "Tell your blacksmith that the tip is too heavy, and to add a feet or two more to maximize impact."

Dumbly, the big nord just nodded as the smaller warrior handed him the spear and walked away. He swaggered in front of Aela and Njada, smirking.

Njada Stonearm smiled at him while Aela sneered. "You got lucky back there."

"Did I?" The Red Viper's smirk widened. "Maybe I am just better."

"How did you manage to do all those fancy moves?" Njada asked, her eyes eyeing him up and down. "You do have an agile body."

Oberyn smiled at her. "Trust me, it is not only fast and effective in the battlefield." He winked and swaggered his way to the entrance hall.

The woman blushed and smiled shyly after him. Aela just rolled her eyes and left towards the field to practice with her bow.

Meanwhile, Skjor and Vilkas were in deep conversation. They were talking in hush whispers and Farkas retrieving potions to help the elder warrior that fought Oberyn recover faster from his injuries.

"He was too fast." Skjor shook his head, holding a hand to his broken nose. "I never stood a chance."

Vilkas nodded. "Aye, and he was merciful. He could have done more damage from what I saw."

"Do you think he would be a good addition?"

The elder twin touched his chin. "I am sure he would be, but he needs to talk to Kodlak first before anything is concrete."

"Well do hurry up. I don't want the gossip to bring us the guards asking. They have been looking for recruits for a while and I sure as hell don't want to lose Oberyn to those pansies."

"That gossip could turn to the other two factions at work…" Vilkas grimaced. "Ulfric would be crazy if he did not want a warrior like Oberyn in his ranks."

Skjor sneered. "Another reason we can't let the pup leave without joining us."

Vilkas knew that fresh blood was needed. He also saw how charming and amiable Oberyn could be. That man could prove the difference in finally snatching juicy contracts and becoming a mighty organization again…

* * *

"I will send Farkas with you." Skjor said with a smirk. "You are new and lost your memory so might as well get you a guiding dog eh?"

Farkas frowned while both Vilkas and Oberyn sniggered. "Keep it down." The bigger of the four stated.

With that, Oberyn and his new friend Farkas departed the headquarters to visit the city. Oberyn had been instantly curious and requested to explore a bit after the fight. He knew they would not deny it after his display.

Fearing that others might take their recently discovered asset away, Vilkas and Skjor sent Farkas with him. It was obvious to Oberyn and yet did not care. These people were not Lannisters. They were honorable and outgoing to the point of trusting and yet cunning enough to keep him with them.

"The Plains District of Whiterun is home to the city's shops and market, while the Wind District is mostly a residential district. The Jarl's palace, Dragonsreach, dominates the Cloud District." Farkas explained as Oberyn looked around with a glint of wonder in his eyes.

"What can you tell me about the Skyforge?" Oberyn had utterly been fascinated by the history of the five hundred Companions and their leader, Ysgramor. The tales seemed to talk of a fierce and powerful warrior carrying a huge axe. He could almost place him alongside Robert Baratheon in terms of size and skill with heavy weapons. However, Ysgramor probably had way more brains than the idiotic lord of Storm's End.

Farkas smiled. "As old as some of the dwarven ruins, or possibly even more. They found it as it was and settled around it. Whiterun became the city it is because of that forge."

Oberyn raised an eyebrow. "Dwarves?" Tyrion Lannister came to mind after that comment. "Little buggers or what?"

The big nord shook his head. "Elves, from the deep. I do not know much about them but I am sure Vilkas does. They were your height or perhaps a little smaller. Vanished thousands of years ago."

"Vanished you say?" Oberyn asked as he smiled at a nord woman who smiled back at him. Truly, this land had beautiful and well cared for women. He was starting to like this place even more.

"They just popped out of existence, no one knows what happened to them. For all we know, they are extinct."

Filing that information for later, Oberyn eyed a man on robes and a cloak yelling besides the statue of a powerful looking warrior. "Who is that?"

The nord chuckled. "A priest and preacher of Talos. He has been there for quite a while. The jarl does not have the heart to get him away, it seems."

Oberyn was well aware of the conflict between the Empire, Skyrim and the Aldmeri Elves. He was still confused about most aspects but got the gist of it all.

A weakened empire committing mistake after mistake, a rebellion at hand and a superpower at the ready to snatch them both.

Why was this so familiar to him?

"That is Adrianne Avenicci. Imperial but very skilled." Farkas smirked. "She gets irked by those who say women should not be smithing or playing with swords."

Oberyn nodded and smiled at the woman who just gave him a glimpse before getting to work again.

"She is taken, by the way." Farkas commented with amusement.

The smaller man just shrugged. "Has never stopped me before."

Farkas laughed hard and shook his head. "If you were not so skilled in combat, I would actually warn you from getting into taken women's beds."

"Been there." The Red Viper smiled at the memories. His mind went through so many memories of his old home, his elder brother berating him for his insane antics and his beautiful sister marrying Rhaegar.

"I take it you miss your home?"

"In more ways than one." Oberyn sighed and continued walking towards the market alongside his friend. "But I am grateful to be alive."

The big nord nodded. "Sometimes, one takes many things for granted, but once it becomes lost, then they realize how much they miss them."

"Too true, that."

Both men continued walking through the city as city guards stared at Oberyn and others simply nodded at him. Farkas excused himself to buy some supplies from the shops around and the Red Viper suddenly found himself gazing around. His eyes then set on a guard with a very good body.

The Red Viper immediately turned on his charm.

"That weapon looks good." Oberyn drawled as he approached, touching the tip of it. "But mine is better."

"Want to bet on that, imperial?"

Oberyn shrugged as he approached the female's ear, whispering. "I do not bet as it is boring, because I know I will win."

The guard's breathing became slightly more erratic as the Red Viper put a charming smile close to her face.

"My place, tomorrow." She whispered, looking him up and down. "Be there or I will cut your head off."

Oberyn smiled and bowed. "I will not disappoint you, my lady."

Turning towards Farkas, who had approached the scene with an amused smile, she snarled. "Tell him where I live, I expect him tomorrow afternoon."

With that, she turned away and left. Oberyn smiled at the swinging of her hips.

"Flavia, such a feisty spirit." Farkas shook his head. "It does seem that you have charm."

The Red Viper smirked. It was so easy to impress in these lands. While in Westeros women fell to their knees and begged him for a chance to bed him, these ones proved a bit more difficult but he knew that was worth it.

And it was also worth it to impress his new friends or "captors." That would elevate his chances of protection and survival in a land that he almost did not know anything about.

In the end, it was his charm, cunning and skills that won him so many battles and political schemes. And yet, in this land he would have to start from scratch. Like his ancestors before him in Dorne, he would begin slow but steadily.

He needed powerful allies and excellent, loyal friends that would back him in the future. If he was going to rebuild the house of Martell, then he would sure as hell be acting like the head of the family for once. He was the last one, after all.

Of course, the situation in Skyrim regarding a rebellion would get in the way. Before long, if he grew influential enough around these lands he would need to pick a side. As of the moment, he considered the Empire a vassal state to be sneered at and Ulfric a fool for gaining the enmity of so many in a short amount of time.

He hoped the situation changed or the two factions made dramatic changes to even make him pay the slightest amount of interest or else the game would be played somewhere else.

Indeed, it sounded great, the throne of the Empire. However, those blasted elves wanted to be Lannisters were vying for all the power and had the resources to take it, while the Empire was barely standing on its feet. They truly needed excellent guidance.

The Stormcloaks, while right in many of their arguments and cries for revenge, were utter fools. Why wage a rebellion that would drain both powers instead of talking about true revenge…. That was a dish best served cold, and Skyrim could quite ironically and amusingly provide it for the Empire and all around.

Skyrim was a rich and powerful province that provided so many resources to the weakened Empire. Perhaps this Ulfric was getting greedy, or he simply saw it unfair how his home province was providing the Empire its last breaths before dying off.

He had to watch and wait, it seemed. He also needed more information from different sources. Nords were great storytellers, but what about the other races? He was curious about the cat folk and the Bretons. He had yet to meet one of those but their points of view would be invaluable to assess the situation more carefully. If his brother was here, he would have already talked to several and started plotting his way to become as powerful as he was in Westeros.

Oberyn was barely thinking about it and had already snatched one, possibly two bed warmers. That truly showed the difference between the two brothers.

"You alright there?" Farkas asked, and the Red Viper recalled the first time he met the gentle giant. "Let us go to the palace, we must present the newest citizen of Whiterun to its jarl."

The fallen prince was excited to meet this jarl. Another possible ally…

* * *

The doors opened and Oberyn was mystified by how simple yet great the castle looked. Most on Westeros would sneer at it but they did not know good architecture was from the next. At Dorne, it was mostly simple because of lack of raw materials. Importing them was costly and as such, stone was the norm. Simple yet beautiful structures that stood tall and proud in a desert that would kill even some of the strongest.

A testament of his people's strengths.

"Jarl Balgruuf is a wise man." Farkas whispered as they approached the throne room slowly. "He is cautious but a very good friend to have once you get on his good side."

"Most men are like that." Oberyn commented with amusement. "Once you show them how good of an asset you are, they won't let you go."

Even the big nord knew that was a jab at him and the Companions, but Oberyn's smile told him he was merely amused and not irritated in the slightest.

Nodding along, Farkas replied. "Sure, but loyalty and wisdom are not gained out of nowhere, there must always be a start to anything."

Oberyn smirked at that but did not comment.

"Farkas!" The jarl smiled. "To what do I owe the pleasure to one of the finest Companions?"

The nord smiled. "My jarl, I would like to introduce you our recent guest and possibly new citizen of Whiterun, Oberyn Martell."

"Hmmm." The jarl nodded with a blank face at the imperial looking man beneath him. "What are you doing in my city, young man?"

"I sustained an injury, your lordship." Oberyn bowed in respect, smirking at the pleased look crossing the jarl's features. "I have lost many of my memories but thankfully, the Companions found and nursed me back to health."

"We found him outside the city during the storm of three days ago." Farkas continued. "He was in pretty bad shape but he is tough."

Jarl Balgruuf nodded. "Excellent work. Now…" He drawled. "What do you plan to do, Oberyn Martell? Future may be bleak but I know some can overcome even the strongest of currents."

"Your lordship, I would like to stay and learn in this city I am grateful to be currently calling home." The Red Viper smiled. "And hopefully join the Companions."

"A very good choice." Balgruuf smiled. "Even though I am jealous. You would have made a fine addition to my elite guard."

So the rumors did spread quickly in this city, Oberyn thought with an amused smile. "Thank you for your offer, but I am sure you know my loyalty and attention should be with the Companions?" Ah yes, loyalty and battle prowess were championed by these nords.

A pleased look crossed the jarl's face before turning blank. "Of course."

"However, I will obviously respect the law and pay my taxes. If this city is to protect me, then I have to contribute don't I?"

Jarl Balgruuf smirked and said, "I like him, Farkas. He has my permission to become a citizen of Whiterun."

"Thank you, my jarl." Farkas bowed like Oberyn did, to show how pleased he was. "In the next few days, you shall receive news of our newest member and brother in arms."

"And you will get a few contracts." The jarl nodded. "Some bandits have been causing trouble a few miles outside the city. I will pay very handsomely for their heads on a pike."

"Of course, my jarl."

Obviously hinting at the end of the conversation, Oberyn turned to look at the jarl. "Your lordship, will I be able to purchase a home later?"

"Yes, as long as you have the coin to spare."

"Thank you, your lordship."

With that, both men bowed at the jarl before starting to depart. However, Oberyn turned to look at the female standing beside the jarl. Her blue skin and red eyes gave her away as a dunmer, or dark elf as supplied by Athis.

He was right, they were not half bad to look at.

Oberyn then departed the palace. He was eager to see what Njada and Flavia had to offer in a warm bed… with some wine or mead.

Had he already thought of how pleased he was of this place?

* * *

**A/N: A poll will be posted some time later or tomorrow afternoon. I would like you all to provide your opinions first on the comments section though. Which race would the female be that finally snatches the Red Viper in the distant future? It is a maybe for now, as some have said that Oberyn, and I share that opinion, is a man who does not keep to one bed unless he is quite taken with someone. Also, what do you think Oberyn's role will be after the dragonborn arrives to the scene? As said, that is in the future. You can also comment, rate and subscribe. PMs are also warmly welcomed. One of the reviewers has been very kind in providing suggestions and insights into both Skyrim and the Red Viper.**

**In addition, what would you like his new spear to be like? Which material? You can comment this in the reviews section or in PMs if you would like.**

**As a reminder, I am sorry for the mistakes, I have no beta reader and I am doing my best in correcting them. You do not know how awkward it is when I am reading this out loud and my girlfriend stares at me from the other side of the room. Quite... not what I like heh. **

**By the way, I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire or the Elder Scrolls.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: If I take long to write a chapter, it means I am doing my best to make it as best as possible. I do not like to rush. Remember, quality over quantity. That is a good motto to follow around here. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Oberyn goes through several changes and learns what is to adapt in Skyrim. A line here by a woman will certainly plague and nag at Oberyn in the future heh. Please, take your time and enjoy. **

**It will skip quite a bit of time so be warned. It's been a week since his arrival.**

* * *

Aldruf, one of the elite guards of Jarl Balgruuf, was feeling amused. He had been passing by the house of Flavia and heard heavy moaning. It was extremely loud and some women sneered or blushed at the house.

The gossip had said that the new young man in town, Oberyn Martell, had impressed the sword maiden so much she snatched him for a day of lust.

Indeed, the man had been the constant topic of the gossip at the pubs and barracks. It was either his shocking easy victory over Skjor, one of the best Companions and a great warrior, or his prowess in bed.

Jarl Balgruuf had barked out a laugh at the news that the boy was already a menace to some of the males. One put that he "was a danger to their women and their beds." Aldruf would have been angry if he had a wife, but he was much too happy with his simple life. He had more money and less nagging at home so he could not complain.

"Are they done yet?" One of the guards said incredibly annoyed. "I have been passing by all day and heard nothing but moans!"

The other nord beside him shrugged with a smirk. "Leave them alone will you? It isn't their fault that you can't get a good woman."

Aldruf and the other two guards laughed at their friend's scowl. "Tough it up, it is not like he is seducing our mothers for Talo's sake!"

"Yeah, but what about our sisters?"

"Ulfric would have a field day ranting about that imperial!" One of the guards mockingly began imitating the leader of the Stormcloaks. "Oh! An imperial snatching our women! Declare war on the Empire in the name of our blood purity and rights as nords!"

The laughter from the group could have probably been heard all the way to Riverrun.

Finally after a few hours of boredom patrolling the serene streets of Whiterun, a guard spotted Oberyn walking out of Flavia's house at sunset with a smirk on his face.

"You better come back tomorrow or else I will turn your insides out!"

"That is if you can even best me in combat!" Oberyn had retorted to the smiling face of Flavia. "But tomorrow you shall be granted with my gracious presence."

Flavia snorted. "Arrogant arse!"

Laughing, Oberyn departed towards the Companion's headquarters.

Aldruf and his two friends were shocked to see Flavia smiling softly after the imperial.

"Well I'll be damned!" One of the guards chuckled at the feisty and moody sword maiden smiling like that.

* * *

Oberyn was utterly fascinated when he saw a woman in robes putting her hands on a drunken looking redguard.

He had now enough knowledge of most races to actually identify them on sight. Vilkas provided him excellent books. Farkas voiced his displeasure whenever he could and whined that Oberyn would not spar, but read.

"The streets are not treating you well, why won't you accept my offer of work?" She asked softly, knowing what the stubborn male would say.

The redguard snorted. "I have way too much pride, my sweet Danica. Besides, I would just get in your way."

"You are a brilliant archer! Why do you dwell yourself further? She is gone."

"Aye, she is." He nodded with a sad smile. "I have nothing left; she even took my children with her."

Oberyn could almost roll his eyes at the sad, sweet display. What he clearly wanted was to know what she was doing. It was clear the cuts on the individual's forehead and arms disappeared as nothing.

Intriguing….

"Well then, stay for a bit. I will bring you some food okay?"

"Thank you, my sweet."

The male nodded at her and opened the doors to enter the medium sized building.

Danica then felt a stare and turned. She saw a tall looking man with olive skin and intriguing eyes. He had been obviously watching her tend to the redguard drunk.

"Hello there." She greeted with a smile. "What can a humble priestess of Kynareth do for you?"

The Red Viper smiled charmingly and walked towards her. "I am new in this town and…" He frowned. "Unfortunately, I sustained an injury more than a week that has erased some of my memories."

"Oh! Would you like for us to help? We do not know much on head injuries but we will do what we can!" She smiled at him.

"No, it is not about that, my lady." He said with a smile. However internally he was not satisfied when she did not blush, merely just kept looking at him. "I wanted to inquire about the energy looking thing coming out of your hands."

The woman tilted her head to the side. "You mean healing spells?"

His eyes widened slightly before assuming a natural smiling face. "That is correct."

"I can teach you the basic ones if you would like?" She smiled neutrally. "It is not very difficult but not easy either. There is patience needed to learn spells."

Patience… Oberyn knew it well. His family was patient and cunning, known for their political ploys and intrigue inside Dorne.

He could be a stubborn arse and a hot headed moron at times, but if there was something that would help him out a great deal in the future he would be very, very patient…

"I believe that I can be patient enough, my lady." He bowed at her with his most charming smile.

Yet again she did not seem affected by it. "Good, now we can start as there is nothing better to do."

Oberyn shrugged and followed her into the temple, knowing that this experience would change his perception of Skyrim and Tamriel forever.

It was the day the Red Viper would become fascinated with magic. Enemies would tremble in fear years later when the Red Viper destroyed them with both magic and martial prowess.

It was the day Oberyn Martell became a battle mage.

Oberyn was absolutely enthralled by magic. He was extremely interested in it but most importantly, he saw how it would provide him a great edge in combat.

Destruction was a great type of martial magic and would add quite a bit of dynamics to his style. There was fire, ice and lightning. He shuddered at the thought of the last one as it was the thing that got him in this land.

When he read about Alteration though, he was immediately drawn to it. The ability to discover other entities or the skill to don magic armor would fill in excellently to his fighting style and military mind. It did look like the Red Viper was going to become as strong as Robert Baratheon at no cost of speed. Amazing, magic was.

There was also water breathing, another great skill perfect for ambushes. He could even create gold from it, but the spell was extremely difficult to master. Tywin Lannister would be really jealous, Oberyn thought with a mischievous grin. He had to shit gold while Oberyn would be creating it out of nowhere.

Another reason why magic was his favorite pastime now.

Illusion became a favorite of his, and destruction was quickly put aside. Turn invisible? An excellent tool, along with creating hysteria, confusion and madness. He could imagine casting one of those spells to the Mountain in the middle of his regiment. Oberyn would pay all his gold in Dorne to see that.

He could also cast a courage spell on his allies if need be to become even more ferocious in combat. Truly, with these types of spells he could bend the rules of engagement to his will. Of course, Danica did warn him that Illusion was one of the toughest types of magic and only certain mages excelled at it. It truly was a branch where elves excelled and humans were behind due to lack of magic reserves or intellectual prowess.

They did not know, however, that Oberyn was just as smart, if not more so, than most elves. He outwitted and outsmarted several maesters and even managed to get bored at their Citadel. That same place was said to have been insanely hard. The Red Viper did not even try and had excellent marks by some of the toughest teachers.

Restoration was just as fascinating as Illusion, and one of the easiest to master according to Danica. Oberyn rolled his eyes when she said that with a cheeky grin. Obviously she would excel at it being trained and exercising the skill for years now.

The most important abilities of this branch to Oberyn were restoration of both health and stamina, turn undead and magical wards. Excellent tools for battle and avoid quick death if necessary. If he did not master it, Oberyn would hire people excellently acquainted with the field. They would be invaluable to heal and protect noncombatants and the wounded before, during and after the battle.

Turning the undead into allies was invaluable as well, though he did feel revulsion towards using that ability. Of course, in cases of dire emergency he certainly would. After all, all is fair in love and war. Using fallen foes into useful cannon fodder was very enticing to Oberyn.

Lastly, Conjuration. Oberyn at first was tired and was about to tell Danica that he would be back later. His eyes then set upon words that changed his boredom and lack of energy into an explosion of bliss.

"_Woe to those that fight a master of Conjuration. They will face the worst of unknowns. Daedra will tear apart any individual foolish or brave enough in the blink of the naked eye. If daedra monsters are not enough, bound daggers and swords will punch through anything, endless in their pursuit of bloo. Last but certainly not least, mage conjurers have the ability to call upon bonemen and the most powerful of fallen foes to fight in their name and glory. Woe to those that fight a master of Conjuration."_

Worst of unknowns. Oberyn liked that very much. After all, he certainly was unpredictable and deadly.

"You can get trained in the fields of your choosing you know? But it is costly." Danica commented as she bent to pick of a cup.

Oberyn obviously roamed his eyes over her figure. He then heard her chuckle. "You are a lustful man, aren't you?"

"Don't tell me priestesses can't bed because of their service?" Oberyn raised an eyebrow, already thinking of how he seduced the septon because he was bored and needed a challenge.

It also added to the fact that she would charge less if seduced properly. He needed teaching in Restoration after all.

Danica merely smirked in return. "If you are that interested, why do you bed Flavia then?"

"She is feisty." Came his automatic response, alongside a shrug of indifference.

"No, you don't keep to one woman." She said with an amused smirk. "Shame, you would make a fine husband."

He cringed at the very last word of her comment. "Husbands are not needed. Paramours though, I can settle with that."

"One day, Oberyn." She chuckled. "One day you will meet your match and you will suffer for it."

The Red Viper smiled amusingly. "I do not think that would happen, but…." He drawled. "In the meantime, why don't we play a game I really like?"

She tensed when he slowly approached. "What kind of game?"

"Rather simple, my lady." He smiled as his hand held her right hip while his left brushed the robe away from her face. She was indeed beautiful. The Red Viper had a soft spot for dark skinned women. It was a shame she was being hidden by those horrid robes. "It is called strategic seduction."

Danica laughed outright at his rather amusing title. "Oh really? How do you play it?"

"Very easy. First, strategy requires for a commander to make the best of moves…" He trailed a hand on her back, sending shivers down her spine. "They know of risks and are rather inevitable, but worth it."

He kissed her and by the end of the day, they had been fornicating like sinners.

The redguard drunk was so amused he left the temple laughing and screaming to the heavens that the new boy in town was now seducing priestesses.

Of course, both did not care about the other in the slightest but they did have sex whenever tension or stress built up in the Red Viper's lessons.

Danica also had a rather frivolous sexual appetite that required a man and another woman with them.

Certainly, Oberyn did not mind. Sharing was caring, after all.

* * *

"Those fools." Vilkas sneered in disgust. "They have the audacity to come and openly recruit in front of the guards."

Oberyn and the twins had been watching three stormcloak recruiters shouting about their crusade to liberate Skyrim from the elven menace and their minions, the Empire.

The Battle-Born Clan were glaring at Ulfric's men with the utmost hate and contempt in their faces.

The big nord with them, Farkas, was also disgusted with the treatment towards a khajiit caravan stationed outside the city and some foreign inhabitants inside Whiterun. The stormcloaks had mocked and threatened to kill them before sneering obscenities and leaving.

"Know that from this day forth, Skyrim will become great once again! A new Empire of Men shall arise from the ashes left behind by the weakened rulers from Cyrodiil and the evil Dominion!"

"You will help our cause become real and Jarl Ulfric will help our families to survive in the coming future! Join us and protect your beloved fatherland!"

Rolling his eyes, Oberyn then started sharpening his newly acquired dagger from the forge. "They could always ask us nicely to join them." He said sarcastically, making the twins chuckle.

One of the stormcloaks approached them and sneered at the Red Viper, lifting a finger to point at him. "Imperials! You are the ones to have brought upon us these darkening times. Your Empire has made our fatherland weak!"

Farkas muttered while Vilkas paled. "You do not want to say those things to him."

"Why?" The stormcloak snarled. "It is his kind that has made us all suffer from that Talos damned treaty! Spitting us in the face!"

Standing up slowly, Oberyn raised an eyebrow at the blonde nord sneering at him. "Well, well…" He drawled. "You have finally stepped into Whiterun. I was expecting your lord to come himself…." The Red Viper glanced to the sides and showed a mocking face of surprise. "But he is not here! Is he afraid?"

"Shut your mouth, disgusting filth!" The blonde threatened. Oberyn noted that Flavia was watching from a corner in the market, her eyes narrowed.

He winked at her and said to the stormcloak. "You want to know something stormcloak?"

"What?" Came the snarled response.

Oberyn smirked and took a step. "Longswords are useless in very close quarters…"

Before anyone could do anything, the Red Viper stabbed the man with his dagger on his right shoulder, crippling him from using his good arm. He then proceeded to kick him in the groin and punched his face.

Within seconds, the man was out cold with a serious injury.

Blood was now flowing through the streets of the market.

However, despite the violent scene, some guards and the Battle-Born clan members were cheering and openly shouting "Oberyn" several times.

The stormcloaks rushed into the scene. Farkas and Vilkas immediately drew their swords out.

Guards around tensed and slowly approached, their shields up and some readying their bows.

"Your friend is not doing very well, I am afraid…" Oberyn drawled with a mocking smile. "There is a temple that would kindly treat his wounds, but if you fight us, he will die alongside you."

The remaining nords dressed in blue tensed and seemed to think it over.

"Time… our fiercest foe and one that does not spare."

Not even bothering to reply, the two stormcloaks helped their fallen comrade and rushed him to the temple run by Danica, who was openly glaring at Oberyn. She most likely did not approve of violence.

The Red Viper had the audacity to wink at her and smile innocently.

"Oberyn Martell! I take it you won't stop surprising us!" Aldruf shouted, making most of the people and guards around laugh. The tension slowly dropped.

He was very pleased to see the wealthy and powerful Battle-Born clan openly nodding at him in respect and even smiling.

They were players here, and big ones at that.

The Red Viper also knew that Jarl Balgruuf despised the stormcloaks because they disturbed his trade routes with their insane guerrilla war on the thalmor.

Of course, he could not deny them entrance to the city due to hesitance to cause a rift between Windhelm and Whiterun.

That would be very bad for business.

And that made Oberyn Martell groan. He had screwed up and needed to talk to the jarl as soon as was humanly possible.

"The jarl will be displeased." The new man in town commented to the twins. "I shall be talking to him later."

Vilkas shook his head. "The guards are worse gossips that women. He will hear about this in minutes and approve. You did defend yourself as the imbecile was going to draw his sword."

"They did think they had the law on their side since most of the guard is composed of nords." Farkas replied. "Though most if not all are loyal to the jarl and will defend their citizens no matter how pure of a nord the attacker is."

"And…." Vilkas drawled with a smirk. "You have made a good impression on the Battle-Born Clan. They are quite close to the jarl and will speak in your favor. Fret not, you are in solid ground."

"We will vouch for you if need be as well."

Oberyn smiled at both twins and sat down to continue sharpening his sword now. The dagger would be next, along with a trip to Flavia's house.

She certainly would be feisty today after his display of bravado and recklessness.

Danica was a no go. She would certainly refuse to even kiss him.

"I think I will visit the caravan outside, I am quite curious about the cat folk." Oberyn said before starting to walk to the gate, with the guards giving him several nods and even words of praise.

The twins shrugged and departed towards their headquarters. Probably by now the guards would have informed all of their shield brothers and sisters about the incident in the marketplace.

Oberyn accepted the comments and nods with a smile and replied several times. The man from Dorne was certainly having an impact on Whiterun in the span of a week. It helped that he was down to earth and already popular with the middle and high class of the city.

Even his brother would be pleased.

* * *

Oberyn watched with wide eyes the cat folk moving about their caravan.

They were certainly cat folk! This place was getting stranger and better by the day.

Two legged, formidable looking cat men. This was looking out of a children's imagination, and outrageous at that.

Approaching silently with only his imperial armor and a sword, the imperial looking man was astounded when a regal looking khajiit turned around and nodded at him.

"Greetings stranger, what can Ri'saad do or get for you?" The cat looked bored but Oberyn was certain his ears were alert and his posture tense.

The Red Viper could hear the strange manly voice combined with a purr. It was overwhelming and fascinating.

"A pleasure." Oberyn nodded his head and smiled. "I am Oberyn Martell. I heard of the strange products from your land and would like to learn and see if anything will be valuable to me."

The cat smiled. "Of course, Ri'saad will help you choose wisely."

Within minutes, Oberyn was openly asking questions about certain "crafted magical items."

"Ah, this one acquired this dagger in Hammerfell long ago." Ri'saad spoke with enthusiasm. "A dwarven dagger enchanted to poison an enemy."

"Poison?" The Red Viper's eyes sparkled. "What kind of poison?"

"Very nasty, this one thinks." The cat furrowed his eyebrows. "It does corrosive damage and leaves very horrid marks on the body."

It reminded Oberyn of the poison he was so fond of back in Westeros. "How much do you think this is worth?"

"This one thinks around two hundred septims."

Smirking, the Red Viper replied, "I have seen how these people treat you. I have some friends inside that are dying to deal with you, though cannot in the open."

A lie, of course but Oberyn was certain the Battle-Borns and even the Companions would like to have a hand on these items.

Even the guards themselves.

"Hmmmm…" The cat looked at him with a strange expression. "This one thinks you are skilled at Alchemy."

The man tilted his head to the side. "Alchemy? You mean creating potions and the like?"

"Yes." The cat purred.

"I could be in some branches." Oberyn said slowly. "But most are out of my grasp."

Nodding his head, Ri'saad said. "You could become a good alchemist. Your eyes seemed to be full of curiosity and eagerness for this poisoned dagger."

Oberyn shrugged. "I guess some do not like to play…. dirty."

The cat chuckled. "This one likes your sense of humor."

"Thank you." The Red Viper smiled. "How about one hundred septims and some extra customers in exchange for this dagger?"

"Very well."

By the end of the day, Oberyn had acquired a poisoned dagger, gained even more respect and fame after the incident with the idiotic blonde stormcloak and a fence for buying items that were certainly not in the open one.

The Companions agreed to buy potions and other supplies from the caravan alongside the guards but the Battle-Born refrained for the moment. Ri'saad was extremely happy and invited Oberyn to share tales in their fires in the next few days.

The Red Viper accepted out of curiosity and the hunger for more knowledge of the world that was Tamriel.

Jarl Balgruuf had then expelled the stormcloaks in the morning after their comrade had recovered enough from his incident with Oberyn Martell.

Adding to that, Oberyn was now going to be made an official member of the Companions. He was set to be tested against the bandits Jarl Balgruuf had complained about.

"Danica…" Oberyn drawled, his eyes glinting with curiosity and eagerness in the darkness. "I would like to acquire some books about Alchemy."

And that was the day the new Red Viper would slowly rise in Skyrim. If it was not enough that he would be skilled in magica, Oberyn would now be aware enough of some of the most potent venoms in Tamriel.

* * *

**A/N: Do not fret, Oberyn will be taught a lesson later on in combat. He will be no mary sue for sure and in magica, he will only focus in two fields with a considerable affinity to another. I am guessing you can know by now which ones.**

**If you know what inspired that scene with the stormcloak, I applaud and salute you.**

**Also, do not worry about hostility or outright banishment of the stormcloaks. They are important, remember that.**

**Thank you for your kind response and remember, please provide any thoughts or suggestions. Like I said, some reviewers have been very kind in guiding me through the next few chapters to develop Oberyn even more.**

**That poisoned dagger is a sign for you all to see. Of course, that venom is not even close to the one he used against the Mountain, but certainly a start.**

**Up in the next chapter, he will raid the bandit camp and meet a character that will become very important in the future.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This is the chapter I wanted to make. Your reviews have been really helpful. I am honestly real happy about your criticism. Of course you can like hearing praise all you want, but criticism along with some praise is truly the greatest gift a reader can give. And I am grateful for it! I am sorry for the delay but hey, I did tinker with this chapter quite a bit to make sure it came out cool.**

* * *

Farkas frowned at the establishment in front of them.

A poor farm.

This was supposed to be an easy test for their recent soon to be member, Oberyn Martel, of Dorne. Even if mysterious, the man inspired confidence and bravery, not to mention loyalty.

Skjor was extremely impressed by the young cub and was fiercely pushing for his nomination. It was obvious the powerful veteran wanted the skillful spearman to be in their organization at all costs.

After the incident with the stormcloak recruiter, the Battleborn Clan was so impressed they inquired and even sent "anonymous" gifts to the man. Oberyn simply nodded and offered the rest to the Companions, exclaiming they were his "friends and saviors."

He could not deny it; Oberyn Martel had the charm to ensnare many to his circle of friends. Vilkas, Skjor and himself, Farkas, were part of that.

However, this day was one he would never forget. It was when he finally met the Red Viper and saw his many weaknesses.

"Bandits of the worst kind." Aela muttered, shaking her head. "These are the ones that killed the Enduril family not too long ago."

Skjor sneered. "Rape and killing indiscriminately, as if sport." He spit on the ground. "And they call us beasts."

Meanwhile, Oberyn and Vilkas were up ahead, watching the rather gruesome scene.

The twin could feel the anger and rage radiating out of his companion.

"We need to be calm, Oberyn." Vilkas wisely muttered. "Wise and careful."

Shaking his head, the imperial snarled. "How can Balgruuf let this happen with his adequate garrison less than ten miles away?" His eyes had a glint that Vilkas did not like. "They should be tortured and executed publically, not just slain in combat. That is for a soldier, not a savage beast!"

"Calm yourself!" Vilkas whispered furiously. "They are eleven, we are five. Archers have taken their positions too; we would be dead before actually saving the girl."

Indeed, a little girl of no less than ten was being groped and touched by the leader of the group. He was laughing and purring while the little girl cried for help.

Crawling to the back, Oberyn said coldly, "You two take the archers. Red head, since you continuously brag about your skill with a bow, prove it today."

The imperial turned to the other nord. "You too, do the same thing. I am not standing idle while that girl is being raped."

With that, Oberyn crawled back to the trench from where Vilkas was glaring at him. "I assume you will attack?"

"Farkas is hidden." It was absurd in a part of his mind, but Farkas was an excellent hunter. "He is using the trees well."

"He is, but you are to put us all in danger, I cannot-"

One of the archers fell while another had his hands on his throat.

It was time.

With a cold frown of concentration, Oberyn emerged from the trench and took out his spear. He impaled the first man near him, letting him cry in pain.

He relished from that. A slow, cruel smile erupted in his face.

Vilkas charged and fought one on one with a heavily armored orc while Farkas tackled and crushed an elf that tried to turn tail.

Those left were the chieftain, who had released the girl and was already charging towards Oberyn, and the man Vilkas was fighting.

The others had succumbed to more arrows or were fleeing. Aela was in hot pursuit while Skjor killed two bandits that were poorly prepared for the surprise attack.

Oberyn smirked coldly. "Come at me, beast. I promise your death will not be swift."

Roaring, the bandit leader charged and the imperial just danced around, avoiding his attacks.

The Red Viper smirked and stood to thrust his spear on the man's throat. However, before Oberyn could do just that, the leader snatched it in surprising speed.

Eyes widening in alarm, the olive skinned man immediately retreated but the bigger man won the pull game and broke the spear. He then raised his fist and punched the surprised Dorne native in the face.

"Scum!" The bandit bellowed with a cruel sneer. "I will have your entrails for dinner!"

The others were busy and he was alone with the big brute.

It was a matter of time before he was crushed.

Oh the irony. He was going to be killed after just spending a few weeks in this new region.

There was a crack and Oberyn opened his eyes, which widened at the scene of a huge man, way bigger than the bandit, holding the latter in a chokehold.

As quick as a stallion, the Red Viper got up and took the remains of his spear.

Slightly disoriented, he quickly saw that the battle was over. Vilkas and Farkas were looting bodies while Skjor and Aela took care of the girl, who was sobbing on the former's shoulder.

Taking in the scene of the huge nord choking the bandit leader, he said. "I thank you for saving my life, stranger."

With a last gurgle, the bandit fell from the stranger's grasp, his neck broken. The big nord then looked at Oberyn and slowly smiled. "So, I take you are the imperial that humiliated my cousin?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Booming a laugh, which soundly oddly like Robert Baratheon's in one of his feasts, the big man said, "The stormcloak you stabbed and beat a few days back."

"Ah.." The Red Viper stammered for a reply, much to Aela's amusement nearby. "Well, he did deserve it."

"That he did, lad." The huge man chuckled. "He is a pompous little arse, but at least he is mostly ineffective."

Oberyn nodded and said, "Still, I would like to thank you for saving my life."

"I wonder how you got into that predicament when you are already a little famed around here with your…." The man smiled amusingly at the two pieces the imperial was holding. "Spear."

Vilkas approached and shook his head. "Stubborn, hot headed and incredibly arrogant you were today Oberyn! What in the name of Talo's were you thinking!"

"I was not thinking, naturally." Came the imperial's reply. "I was…. enraged."

"You were distracted the whole fight, lad." His savior remarked. "You were overconfident and reckless."

Oberyn groaned, touching his face tenderly. "Do not remind me, I have a broken nose prove it."

Laughing at the comment, the man said, "I am Stenvar, from Windhelm."

"Oberyn Martell, at your service." The Red Viper bowed. "I cannot thank you enough for saving my life."

"Aye, us as well." Farkas remarked as he approached, his eyes holding a disappointed aura in them. "He is set to become one of us, but after this… he really does need to have a talk with the Harbinger."

Stenvar smiled. "Companions eh? Very good." He then frowned at the little girl who was clinging to Skjor's hand now. "You saved a life today for your recklessness though, I would not say today is a total failure, Oberyn Martell."

* * *

After chatting with Stenvar the whole way back to Whiterun, he was impressed. The man was no more than forty and yet had been through countless battles and wars. He had fought spellcasters from the Aldmeri Dominion, slavers from the Black Marsh and even Redguard Elite soldiers.

Truly, this man was a force to be reckoned with. And he was a sellsword, one who had travelled as much as Oberyn had back in Westeros.

Although his first test with the Companions had been a complete failure, Oberyn found himself agreeing that it was much better this way. He had saved the life and innocence of that little girl and gained the tentative friendship of his savior.

Stenvar was almost as tall as the Mountain, Ser Gregor Clegane. He was also extremely strong and very capable of handling two handed weaponry. A Robert Baratheon but bigger and much more intelligent. Farkas was one closely resembling Stenvar but with less intelligence, more brute force included.

Oberyn was convinced that Stenvar would have been capable of going one on one with the Mountain with ease. He was faster too, which astonished him.

"Speed is key in battle, but the brains are the best tool." Stenvar remarked to Oberyn once on the way, which he completely agreed with.

And that coming from a big, brute looking man was also impressive. Stenvar clearly had a cunning mind in combat plus strength.

That was a very, very lethal combination.

It was a combination that had made the Red Viper infamous back in Westeros. Provided he had his mind set, not letting his anger or arrogance in the way.

"You are good with a spear but that is a ceremonial weapon here. You may have impressed the Companions, but bloodthirsty bandits and soldiers will have your hide for relying on ancient tradition lad."

Those words struck Oberyn, but the man was right. Spears could only work in special occasions but he had to change. He needed to train with swords, knives and maybe maces.

Even though maces could drain his speed, he was convinced they would be extremely fortuitous in close combat.

The thought of fighting with a spear in a cave or a city made him pale.

As the saying went, adapt or die. And the Red Viper was a survivor, he wanted to live in this new world and as such, he needed to improve and move on.

Weapons such as those could balance a fight better than a spear that could be broken.

He was also alarmed at the thought of a powerful mage or battlemage frying him for relying on a spear, when he could have thrown a knife or put his shield in place.

With a spear, there could be a shield but smaller, losing advantage of protection. With a sword, the shield could be decent sized and even enchanted!

Oberyn had his mouth almost watering at the thought of enchanted weapons, after poisoning them of course. That combination would ensure victory even against the strongest of foes!

"I do not want to nag, but you need to train with good weapons lad. And if by what they are saying is true regarding your curiosity of magic, I can say you will be a bloody terror within a few years."

Oh that he would.

Stenvar had talked of powerful battlemages that changed course of battles. Healing, destroying or manipulating feelings, those spells were responsible for the crushing victory at the Imperial City.

The big nord did talk about a capable warrior by the name of Thullius. He was an extremely able swordsman and leader, and had battlemages close to him at all times during battle.

Oberyn could picture himself that way, thinking as a leader of a group not relying on pitiful dreams for glory. He deduced that knights from Westeros would be pulverized in this region as they did not fight in formation, which the Legions and stormcloaks did.

Of course, the heavy cavalry was another thing. They could manage to hold a victory, but with those spellcasters and fearsome nords that could rival the Mountain in height, he doubted the cavalry would have much success after.

Discipline was the main thing here for their military successes.

As soon as the party arrived to the Companion's headquarters, Oberyn decided to shut himself out for a little while to read more. He needed knowledge of this world's battle tactics, formations and history.

He started with the history of the Legion. Oberyn was impressed.

The Legion was a powerful war machine of extremely disciplined soldiers that could ravage an entire country within days, then the battlemages and healers thrown in. He knew they were certainly the best in this world's history.

But not anymore.

The Legion had descended alongside the crumbling empire into severe decay. Pay wages were lowered and morale along with it. Discipline was not the same and desertion ran rampant. It was a miracle the empire was standing with a military that was so weakened.

And yet, they were still strong in their own right.

Perhaps these people did have a strong character. To be able to stand against seemingly impossible odds and come out defeated but proud. That was something Dorne had witnessed.

First they had evicted Aegon from their lands. Finally, they were forced to be allied with the Targaryens, but at least still independent.

Of course, an Empire was another thing. A vassal state and laughing stock nowadays, those were the reasons he felt the Stormcloaks had an argument to start their rebellion.

And talking about that rebellion, Oberyn heard of yet another incident near Rorisktead. A small platoon of stormcloaks ambushed yet another wagon of Thalmor agents.

It was a slaughter. The Thalmor, as rumor had it, had begged and cried for mercy but were cut down to one last man.

He had been left alive but an eye was taken out. He would most likely serve as a warning for the Thalmor Embassy. They were not to mess with Skyrim anymore, not when Ulfric was still active and willing to trade clashes with them.

The rebellious leader had grown bold these days and had killed dozens of thalmor agents, sympathizers and even an imperial count by the name of Julius Cilianus.

Julius was sent to close a trade deal with the Thalmor Embassy but was executed before he could arrive.

"Growing bold, is he?" Vilkas muttered as he and Oberyn read the latest news on a message sent by Balgruuf, who was growing anxious. "Ulfric will be the death of us all."

While Torvar was off acquiring a separate reward for the death of that blasted bandit leader, Oberyn and Vilkas were at the table, with the former reading and the later eavesdropping every now and then in boredom.

"You cannot blame him." The Red Viper replied as he stood up to gather more books. "The Empire is a vassal state, enslaved to those…. cruel masters."

Vilkas nodded. "Sure, but… there is always another choice."

"Like what?" Oberyn raised an eyebrow. "Bow your heads and stand idle while the Dominion continues to mock your culture and rape your women? I assure you, he is doing a mistake by instigating this rebellion... so soon but he is doing what any other man would do that is tired of this bloody situation."

"What would you do?" Skjor entered the hall, staring at the younger man.

"Gather allies, influence politics and build a good army."

The two companions laughed at his face. "That takes a while." Vilkas replied while Skjor nodded.

"Sure, but even a dog knows when not to anger his master…. but when that cruel master has grown complacent, overconfident in his tyrannical rule and lazy, then what? Who will hold the upper hand?"

That left them speechless.

With a huff, the Red Viper went downstairs to have the long awaited talk with Kodlak.

Oberyn had respect for the old man. He had seen and done things that even Torvar would be impressed with. Things that would make Rhaegar cringe and the uptight Eddard roar in rage.

Horrible but necessary.

Respectfully, the young man knocked on the door, immediately hearing a reply to enter right after.

"Ah, young Oberyn." Kodalk smiled warmly. "Please, have a seat lad."

"Thank you, sir."

The old man waved him off with a smile. "Oh no sir here, I know I am growing old but at least have a decency to not make me feel even more."

Oberyn laughed merrily. "Will do."

"So… I heard of the incident, young man." Kodlak had a blank face. "Why did that happen?"

The Red Viper was surprised at change in the man's demeanor. "Rage. I was… so disgusted and angry at what was happening in front of my eyes." Before Kodlak could open his mouth, Oberyn continued. "I know I placed my sword brothers in danger, but I do not regret it."

"How come?"

"I saved a young human being from suffering a faith worse than death."

His comment was met with silence as the wise warrior in front of him pondered on what was said.

"I will not lie to you lad. You did a very good deed, even Skjor could not help but defend you as he has taken a liking to the young cub. She is a good lad."

Oberyn smiled. "Yes, a rather curious little devil."

The girl, whose name was Lucia, was a cute terror already among the Companions. She was insanely curious and had a fierce temper. She also wanted to be a warrior and had taken a fierce devotion to Skjor. The seasoned veteran had taken the girl in as she had nowhere else to go. She was repaying with utmost loyalty.

"I will not be surprised if she starts calling Skjor 'father' one of these days. Oh his face will be such an amusing sight." Kodlak chuckled merrily while Oberyn smiled.

"Did you fight in the war against the Dominion?" He had almost said sir, but the young man was quickly reminded that the man before him did not care for pleasantries or titles. The respect for him grew within the Red Viper.

Kodlak's face darkened. "Aye, and to be honest it was a very dark chapter of my life."

Standing up and fumbling with a bottle of ale, the Harbringer began, "It was a bright day, that Sundas. We were tasked to raid a few camps of the elves. The people under my command were all seasoned legionaries and officers. Young Thullius was the brightest of them all, along with young Ulfric."

"You fought alongside Ulfric Stormcloak?"

Kodlak nodded as he sat down and sipped his bottle. "Aye. Just like you my lad. He was eager to prove himself and had a strong friendship with Rikke, one of my best as well." The old man chuckled. "I was always amused at their little fits. Ulfric would purposely say something sarcastic about women and she would draw her sword, then they would spar. I knew it was all friendly, their eyes were bright."

"Rikke is an imperial?"

"Aye."

"Surprising that Ulfric would be friends with another not of his native people."

The Harbringer merely chuckled. "Ulfric was never a racist and never will be, at least to men. He does hold an intense hatred for the Thalmor but apart from those… people, no others." His face darkened again. "That Sundas, we raided and pillaged more than six camps. Killed a lot of elves and khajitt. Of course, it is nothing compared to what happened outside Chorrol."

"That is a city, right? Close to the border with Morrowind."

"Yes, close to the Imperial City. We were making those raids to surround the elves and bring the last might of the Empire. The plan was to make the flanks weak before the cavalry could move in."

"Ah, encirclement."

"Indeed lad. However, when we departed for Chorrol for supplies as we did not want to ravage the folk around us, all we saw was fire and death."

At the silence of Oberyn, Kodlak continued. "The city was on fire and there were screams, so many." The Harbringer took a long gulp of his ale. "Women being raped, children butchered and men slaughtered. The city guard was trying its best but the elves had a massive regiment, they never stood a chance."

"Did you intervene?"

The old man looked at Oberyn with glassy, sad eyes. "We wanted to, but could not. We were barely twenty five in strength. All we could have done was delay the inevitable. We were forced to watch the massacre."

"I… understand."

"After that." Kodlak picked on his narration. "Everything changed. No more glory or friendship rivalry among us. We all turned into cold hearted beasts. Ulfric cried in rage while Rikke tried her best to stay calm. Thullius and the rest were no better, I am afraid."

"What happened after that?"

"Two legions arrived and wiped out the Thalmor. We then raided two large camps along the outskirts of the lake close to Chorrol and took over six hundred prisoners, men and women…"

Oberyn already knew what was to come.

"I ordered one of every ten to have their eyes gauged out while the rest were either killed or tortured to death. The remaining ones were allowed to leave…. but we made sure they departed to a land full of scouts and orc guerrilla legionaries. They never made it to the border with the Khajiit Kingdom."

'_And who are you, the proud lord said…that I must bow so low…'_

Tywin would have applauded the action. The Rains of Castamere, he still remembered that wretched song. Inspire fear to win wars.

"I understand why you did it, I would never judge you."

"As I do not for what happened a week ago, my young lad."

Oberyn casted Kodlak a face full of awe and open respect. "You are truly one of the best men I have met. Despite your actions, look at you today. You have raised and trained great people, even if I have to count Aela there." He added the last comment as a joke.

It worked as the old man laughed merrily. "You are truly a remarkable lad. I knew my little cubs were not mistaken when taking you in." He then frowned. "I also sense darkness within you. I have it as well, just learned to control it. You need to do that as well or it will consume you whole."

The Red Viper bowed before Kodlak, making him groan amusingly. "Thank you. I did not expect this but am glad you are such a wise man and warrior. It will be an honor to join the Companions… if you will still have me?"

"Of course I would!" The Harbringer boomed with a laugh. "You have convinced me, young man. Protect your comrades, fulfill contracts with honor and I know you shall become of the greatest to ever walk these halls." He smiled at Oberyn. "Walk with your head tall, for while you failed the task, you did not fail us."

After that, Oberyn had two people he would be calling his teachers. Kodlak and Torvar. One provided wise council and the other martial training.

They were revered later on for having such influence on one of the mightiest soldiers to ever walk Tamriel.

* * *

**Torvar is in the game though he is not really conversational per se. He is almost an OC here, except the name. Also, I could not resist adding Lucia, and she resembles a certain feisty one from the series. If you are so willing, you can share your thoughts in the reviews section. Thank you and once again, sorry for the delay!**

**PS: Oberyn…. handed his ass back to him. This will happen often but that is what will make him such a powerful warrior later on in the series. Finally, yes Oberyn defended Ulfric. Don't get any ideas yet, but those are hints of what is to come.**

**Next chapter, the rebellion officially starts with a bang and Oberyn will start rebuilding his house. Or in Skyrim, Clan Martell.**


End file.
